In dawn, we rise in a hush of winning
daises over forget me nots,
exploring what it's like outside the
eggshell tomb of mine.
How could a piece of pebble
be a castle in a way that all of them
is stitched into one flesh.
May aubades once be
the dawn's words of golden rays
for a light to shine upon our path.
A chameleon gives a
full blown chicken
instead of an egg,
a chameleon once
became a sheep,
but is now a Shepherd.
The aurora borealis
of my sky has
now became a
contrast of debate
between the dark
and the light,
an iris opening to a
new world, more than
four seasons that ushers
to carve mother nature's body
into a vase full of wishes,
i'm neither the two possibilities
in a book, i'm simply a hush
between spine-tingling sentences
inked in tears, a limb-climbing
monster camouflaged as a
milk-skinned god that rules all
the albinos that sprays winter with
their breath, wind blowing memories
ushers me to be one with the sea.
Ombre floors became crumpled skin
of a diamond, the sun rays covering it with its
golden shine like a florescent
light hovering above a shadow
that makes reality look fixed but
in a way it still plays broken piano keys
just playing it in the chamber of sombre dreams.
'I'm not a hot mess, i'm a spicy disaster.'
This world is a cobweb and
i'm just a small little spider.
-Sarah
J